The Baron leaves the sorting room (Open RP)

[i_am_harkonnen]

The Baron was exceptionally relieved to leave the sorting room, which had been getting rather cramped.  Although it had been a somewhat enlightening experience, he now found himself filled with a great deal of questions, such as where to find decent rooms, where that library was, and, how to find the Muggle Studies Department. The hat had left him

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[sir_knits_a_lot]

So, Gwendal has been hiding enough for now. His room threatens to overflow with knit creations that may or may not resemble what they are meant to. Usually not. He is a little pale from not having gone about much over the winter, but clean, presentable, walking with an air that suits a royal administrator. It is time to practice, to get the cobwebs out before they can overtake him.

A huge man floating in the middle of the hallway isn't the strangest thing he's seen, but there isn't much stranger, nothing he can think of at the moment. A giant skeleton of trash might take the cake for all time weirdest and otherwise superlative sights.

The way this man was dressed, though, there would probably have to be some kind of courtly manners displayed, much like the baring of teeth when two or more felines were first put into each other's company.

He bowed. "Excuse me," he said politely enough.

[i_am_harkonnen]

The Baron was pleased to see a display of proper manners, at least. He shifted slightly in suspensors and looked over Gwendal, attempting to quickly assess this new stranger. A bit pale, but, rather pretty, he thought. But it does look like he's probably well-aware of it. At least he's not a talking hat.

Slipping on his best courtly smile, he nodded politely to Gwendal. "Greetings." He made no particular move to get out of Gwendal's way, being used to people finding their way around him.

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal looked around. It was then he realized where he was. "You just arrived?" he asked. "I am Gwendal von Voltaire," he offered by way of introduction, not sure if he should hold out his hand or bow or any of a number of other absurd customs some countries had. He almost winced as he asked, "You haven't had the...pleasure of meeting someone named Yuri, have you?" He wanted to know if he should apologize now or not for his Lord's behavior.

[i_am_harkonnen]

"Baron Vladimir Harkonnen." He inclined his head slightly, sensing he was dealing with someone who at least moved in noble circles, but failed to bow, as, no title had been mentioned. "A pleasure to meet you, Gwendal von Voltaire. I have just recently arrived- I suppose it is more obvious than I'd like it to be." A wry smile creased his lips, and he tried to think back to the sorting. "Unless Yuri was invisible, or that's the hat's name, I don't believe that I have."

[sir_knits_a_lot]

"Yuri is the Maoh, the Demon King, of the Shin Makoku. He is supposed to be learning administration, but tends to employ his energy elsewhere," Gwendal said in the tone of voice reserved for the very put upon royal administrator. "It is time for his lessons and he has managed to vanish, again," he said dryly.

[i_am_harkonnen]

Perhaps the title "Demon King" sounded a bit funny, but, he'd heard stranger one. This sounded like much more familiar territory than talking hats, which was a relief. "I believe it is possible that all nobles enter a rather difficult stage once they start to get the idea that they're in charge. Apparently, the realization that they have power makes them forget the need to learn how to use it effectively." He gives Gwendal a sardonic smirk, but, there's something empathetic about it. "Usually they tend to grow out of the phase, provided they don't do anything too stupid."

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal frowned, his thumb running over his forefigner. "Yuri has always been in a 'difficult phase,'" he said wryly. "And, he does stupid things constantly, for which it falls to me to correct." The truth is, Gwendal was more the monarch than Yuri at this point. Or rather, Gwendal administrated and made Yuri look like a good monarch.

[i_am_harkonnen]

"Sounds like my nephew Rabban. Always doing dumb things, and then I get to fix them- he's rather lucky that his military skills outweigh his all-too-frequent failings. At least, they have so far. I do hope he'll not learn the hard way." He smirked, knowing full well that the "hard way" in Imperial business typically means dead. "I suppose it is fortunate that half of governing is simply in the appearances. And it sounds like you are faced with an greater challenge, seeing as how you're the one stuck with making sure those appearances are kept up."

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal shrugged. "It is a better option that allowing my uncle to be in control," he said. He was the regent when my mother was Maoh, and did a very poor job of it." Ah, the twisted family politics.

[i_am_harkonnen]

The Baron adjusted a suspensor strap beneath his robes, asking thoughtfully, "So, what would you consider a poor job of it? Properly managing a nation's a great deal of work." It was certainly comforting to meet someone else familiar with the political arena, rather than sentient furniture or worse. But that didn't necessarily mean he had sensible political ideas. There were always those idealists, like the damned Atreides, who kept trying to do things "better". And usually making a mess of things.

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal frowned. "He overstepped his authority, started a war, kidnapped the Maoh to gain power." All of theise could be considered heinous crimes against the kingdom.

[i_am_harkonnen]

The Baron nodded. Even he could understand the trouble with starting open, prolonged conflicts, it was economically irritating. And in the end, it was all about wealth. Knives in the dark was usually a great deal less turbulent. "I can understand where that would be a potential problem. Open war's a nuisance. Any idea why you're here? It sounds as if you'd probably be more useful somewhere else, too. Seems damned irresponsible, being stuck here, but, apparently there's not much in the way of interstellar travel."

[sir_knits_a_lot]

"I came unexpectedly, but the Maoh and my brother, his fiance, were here already. And, my brother's uncle has arrived as well." Gwendal thought a moment. "All that I need to do I can do here, and it's quieter here," he said. No sense in mentioning Annisina. There were myths about speaking of devils and their horns, after all. "My brother and his uncle are at home, taking care of duties." Or playing tourist.

[i_am_harkonnen]

"You sound like you've preserved your sanity at least, and as if you don't mind it too much here." He smiled rather sardonically, both bemused and irritated by his new surroundings. "It's an interesting place, I'll give it that, but it probably takes some getting used to. I expect familiar faces might have helped somewhat." He wasn't so sure of that for himself- he knew far too many infuriating people, and apparently he couldn't kill any of them here. A few of his slaves wouldn't hurt. The lack of them was already grating on his nerves. "So which of these houses did the talking hat put you in?"

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal gave the Baron a look that was meant to convey that, in his case, familiar faces weren't exactly helpful, given the tumultuous relationship Yuri and Wolfram had. "Ah, well," he said, moving on to his house, "at my brother's insistence, it would seem, I was placed in Hufflepuff with them."

[i_am_harkonnen]

Years of political experience had left the Baron with a talent for reading people rather well. "It sounds as if you're not very pleased with this? I've heard tell these houses are less than formal alliances, and more of an organizational device, but I've yet to observe much of anything first-hand. I'd insist on any of my family who showed up being put into the same place as myself as well, for the politics of it. Your story suggests that there's more going on than meets the eye?" He was finding it impossible to believe that there wasn't some sort of hidden, complex order someplace. Even if he was forced to accept the existence of magic, seeing it with his own eyes, he couldn't comprehend what appeared to be chaos run by a hat.